


Unrequited

by lea_anberlyn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 20:23:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lea_anberlyn/pseuds/lea_anberlyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Wagmump games have started and Unspeakable Malfoy is on a mission to win. Auror Potter’s mission is just to make sure he gets through this without revealing his very inconvenient crush…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unrequited

**Author's Note:**

> Author/Artist LJ Name: lea_anberlyn  
> Prompter: xenadragon_xoxo  
> Prompt Number: #5  
> Title: Unrequited  
> Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, background Ron/Hermione  
> Summary: The Wagmump games have started and Unspeakable Malfoy is on a mission to win. Auror Potter’s mission is just to make sure he gets through this without revealing his very inconvenient crush…  
> Rating: PG-13  
> Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Warning(s): None.  
> Epilogue compliant? Nope.  
> Word Count: 11,500  
> Author's Notes: Many thanks to my amazing Beta T who is just too lovely for words; and thanks to the mods for letting me steal this prompt in the first place! I hope you all have as much fun reading it, as I had in writing it.

\--------------

  
The Wagmump Games

  
  
To help promote interdepartmental cooperation within the Ministry you have been chosen to take part in the first ever Wagmump Games!   
  
The Wagmump Games are a Ministry-wide Treasure Hunt where you and your chosen partner will search out four different objects within a time limit of six hours! We hope that this will help our valued employees to breach the barriers that have been put in place between the many different departments within the Ministry. To help in this aim we are introducing the extra challenge of binding you ankle to ankle!   
  
Your partner is: Unspeakable Draco Malfoy.   
  
An object list will be given to you on the day.   
  
Have fun, and good luck!

\--------------

  
  
“Oh Harry, it’s not that bad really.” Hermione patted him on the shoulder, giving Harry a small frown when he shrugged her hand off. The interdepartmental memo that had just been delivered to him fluttered down to the floor and Harry spared a moment to glare at it before turning back to his friend.   
  
“Not bad, Hermione? How is this not bad?” Harry asked her, his voice cracking slightly as he let his head fall against his desk, burying his hands in his hair and just wishing the world would be nice to him, just once. Or eat him.   
  
“Well, it’s—I mean—Malfoy has become a valued member of the Unspeakables and—”  
  
“Hermione, you sound just like them,” Ron chimed in as he came to stand beside Harry, ruffling his hair and dislodging Harry’s hands. “This whole treasure hunt thing is a stupid idea. We’ve got better things to do than run around the Ministry trying to find someone’s lost quill!”  
  
Hermione pursed her lips. “Oh yes, like the pile of paperwork I can see on your desk, paperwork that’s been there for four days, Ronald.”   
  
Ron gave her a sheepish grin. “Well, yeah, I can catch up on paperwork and, uhr, come on Harry, help me out here!”  
  
“I’m dead,” came Harry’s muffled voice.   
  
“Oh do stop being such a drama queen, Harry. It’s not the end of the world. Like I was saying, Malfoy is a valued member of the Unspeakables now, and I’m sure he will be professional and—”  
  
“Hermione, it’s not Malfoy I’m worried about,” Harry said, raising his head and giving her a significant look over Ron’s head.  
  
“You—oh! You mean that. Well, I’m sure you’ll be fine Harry. Just remember to maintain your distance, and Malfoy will maintain his, and everything will be fine, you’ll see.”   
  
“Yeah, and if not, just hex his bits off,” Ron added, grinning when Hermione swatted at him, giving her boyfriend an exasperated look.   
  
“Ron!” She shook her head at him before turning back to Harry, placing a comforting hand over one of his. “Remember, it’s only for two days, and you’ve had to work with him before. I’m sure as long as you remain focused on the task you’ll be fine.”  
  
Harry grimaced. “This all happened because I’ve worked with him before. Back when we were at school he was just this pointy, evil git and now he’s—”  
  
“A slightly older, pointy evil git,” Ron put in, ignoring Hermione’s huff.   
  
Harry gave a bark of laughter. “If only!”   
  
Hermione took his hand in hers, holding it tightly. “Well, you know where to find us if you need us. But I’m sure everything will be fine, you’ll see.”

~

Hermione’s words echoed in his head later as Harry stood stoically, waiting for his new partner to join him. Ron nudged him the back before jerking his head towards the door, and Harry’s eyes soon found Malfoy’s figure as he cut through the crowd.   
  
He looked good – far too good really. His face had matured, he had lost much of the sharp look he’d had as a kid. Although Harry attributed that to the fact that he didn’t sneer so much anymore. He was still slender, although not as thin as he had been right after the war. The dark shadows were gone, and in their place Malfoy carried about a kind of confidence with him. It came with the swish of his Unspeakable robes as he made his way through the crowd; his footsteps assured, his place in the world set.   
  
When Harry had first seen him at the Ministry, he’d been outraged that Kingsley had allowed a Malfoy back into a position of power. He’d crashed into Kingsley’s office, raging about the fact that Malfoys couldn’t be trusted; that they lied and cheated, were weak and cowardly, and would probably spit on you if you asked for help. Kingsley had promptly partnered him and Malfoy on a mission.  
  
The first time they’d met again – well, the second time because the first didn’t really count – Harry had been shocked speechless. Not because of the way Malfoy had looked but because Malfoy had bowed his head and said it was a ‘pleasure to work with him.’ This coming from the schoolboy who’d once thrown ingredients into Harry’s cauldrons in class just to make them blow up in his face. Harry had just stood there dumbly. And then Malfoy had smiled at him.   
  
That smile had been the beginning of it all and Harry, who’d been almost blindsided, had accepted that smile with some mumbled words and a quick handshake.   
  
He’d thought that would be the end of it all, but he hadn’t expected what came afterwards. He hadn’t expected Malfoy to be witty – funny, in fact – when he wasn’t being insulting. And he was actually quite clever and knew all these obscure spells that Harry was sure came from his training as an Unspeakable. And that smile… Harry loved to see it, would go out of his way to make it come back. It would disappear in a flash, and Harry would be left floundering in its wake like a Guppy.   
  
Malfoy looked far too handsome when he smiled.   
  
They’d finished their mission, catching the criminal with almost laughable ease and bringing him into custody. Then they’d parted ways.  
  
After that, everything should have gone back to normal. Malfoy had gone back to his job, and Harry had gone back to his. But after that one mission, he couldn’t get Malfoy out of his head. He’d actively look for him in the corridors; try to sneak peeks at him in some of the Auror-Unspeakable meetings that took place once every month. He even convinced Hermione to keep an eye on him when she went down to the Wizengamot. He became almost as obsessed as he’d been in Sixth Year until Hermione had taken him aside and given him The Talk.   
  
She’d very gently told him that what he was doing wasn’t normal and could almost be classed as stalking. She’d told him that even if he was suspicious of Malfoy – which he wasn’t – he’d be better off going to Kingsley, or Robards even, instead of following Malfoy around like some lovesick teenager. She’d then said he acted almost like he had a crush on Malfoy.   
  
Then she’d shut up because she’d come to the same startling realisation that Harry had finally stumbled upon.   
  
He had a crush on Malfoy.   
  
He had a crush on Malfoy. And not even Hermione could think of anything comforting to say about that. 

~

  
“Hello, Potter,” Malfoy said somewhat stiffly when he finally came to stand beside Harry.  
  
Harry gave him a small, rather strained smile back, inwardly cursing Kingsley and everyone in the Ministry who thought this was a good idea. “Hello, Malfoy.” There was silence for a moment, made more awkward by the noise of many conversations going on around them.   
  
Harry finally cleared his throat. “So…how’re the Unspeakables doing?”   
  
Malfoy gave him a disbelieving glance. “You know I’m not allowed to talk about my job.”  
  
Harry gave a shallow laugh. “Oh, yeah. Right. So…” Harry was saved in his floundering by the timely arrival of one of the Ministry employees who’d been pulled in to help organise the Wagmump Games. He was dressed in cheerful yellow robes with a bright orange ‘W-G’ embroidered on the label. Harry could see Malfoy grimacing out of the corner of his eye so he stepped forward himself, taking the small piece of parchment from the man.   
  
“On this parchment you’ll find your items,” the man intoned. “There are four in all and every one of them can be found somewhere in the Ministry. Each team have been given different items so there will be no cheating. Good luck and have fun!” He gave Harry a small grin before saluting them both and leaving to greet the next team.   
  
Harry fingered the parchment in his hand, feeling somewhat hesitant about breaking the seal on it. He was sure, knowing his luck, that the items within were probably going to be impossible to find. Malfoy gave a huff beside him and grabbed the list from his hand.  
  
“Honestly, Potter,” he muttered before breaking the Ministry seal himself. He unfolded the paper and held it slightly to the side so Harry could see.   
  


'Welcome to the Wagmump Games! This list is assigned to partners: Auror Potter and Unspeakable Malfoy. We hope you have fun! Your items consist of the following: 

 

  1. A Golden Interdepartmental Memo




 

  1. A Microwave




 

  1. The Minister’s Quill




 

  1. One Mystery Item to be Revealed When the Above Three Have Been Collected!




When you have managed to find all the items on your list, a Ministry representative from the Wagmump Games will appear and you will be magically unbound from your partner. Again, good luck and remember – teamwork is essential if you are to win!'

  
  
Harry frowned. “What is it we win?” he asked, not remembering anything in his previous letter about a prize.   
  
Malfoy snorted as he tucked the list away into a pocket. “How should I know? Just don’t get your hopes up. This is the Ministry, after all. We’ll be lucky if we get a Sickle.”   
  
Harry grinned at that, receiving a startled glance from Malfoy before he got a rather reserved nod back. Rolling his eyes, Harry turned around to find Ron, who had his head bowed over a piece of parchment with Luna Lovegood. Harry headed towards them, overhearing the end of the conversation as he got closer.   
  
“Oh, I think this will be very fun. I’m so glad I came back to the Ministry. It’s like a big party.” Luna was saying, her hands clasped in front of her.   
  
“Why are you back anyway, Luna?” Ron asked her. “I thought you were going to New Zealand with Rolf.”  
  
Luna nodded at him. “Oh yes, we were going to study the Moon Frogs that have landed there, but I heard rumours that something big was happening here. I did think it was the Rotfang conspiracy, but it turns out it was a treasure hunt. Oh, it’s just like being a child again.”   
  
Harry grinned as he came up andtapped her on the shoulder. “Well, I’m glad you’re back,” he said, his smile growing when Luna turned round to face him, eyes widening in pleasure.   
  
“Thank you, Harry. I’m glad to be back. It’s almost like New Zealand here except colder and with more rain.”   
  
Harry laughed and Ron shook his head ruefully.   
  
“So how are you holding up, Ron?” Harry asked, nudging his friend and casting a sideways glance over towards Hermione, who was standing in the corner with another member of the Ministry.   
  
Ron’s mouth twisted. “You mean how am I dealing with Hermione partnering up with the wonderful Kevin Flynn? The brilliant ex-Chaser for the Wigtown Wanderers, who quit after only a year to join the Department of Magical Games and Sports?” He rolled his eyes. “I love Hermione and all, I just don’t trust guys like that to look after her. You know, all muscle and no brains. Not like me,” he continued when Harry smirked at him.   
  
“What, because you’re all brains and no muscle?” he countered, ducking when Ron made to swing at him. He hid behind Luna, using her as a barrier, enjoying the sound of her laughter. He leaned over her shoulder, trying to get a look at their parchment before Ron caught on and hastily folded it away.  
  
“Oi, mate, no cheating!”  
  
“Didn’t you hear, Weasley? We all have different lists. It’d be impossible to cheat even if we did see yours,” Malfoy commented behind Harry, finally coming over to stand beside him.   
  
Luna seemed to flinch, her face turning pale when she heard Malfoy’s voice. A shadow seemed to fall over Malfoy when he saw Luna. Harry reached out, putting his hand on Malfoy’s arm, holding tight when he tried to shake him off. He could see Ron doing the same for Luna out of the corner of his eye, so he quietly led Malfoy away, leaving Luna to his friend.   
  
He guided Malfoy to the other side of the room, giving a small sigh of relief as the pinched look slowly faded from Malfoy’s face, slipping off completely when they finally stopped. The other man gave him a narrow-eyed look.   
  
“You don’t need to worry about me, Potter. I should have realised that she...in the dungeons, I mean… we mostly ignored them, but we could hear sometimes…”   
  
Harry shook his head. “You don’t need to explain, Malfoy. It was war. It’s over and in the past, and we should all just forget about it.” He had no idea how many times he’d repeated that same line since the end of everything. Especially in those first few days it had almost become his motto, the words falling naturally from his lips.   
  
Malfoy was glaring at him now, and Harry braced himself for the harsh words he knew were going to follow. “Whatever, Potter. It’s easy to forget when you never did anything to give you nightmares, when you don’t have to be constantly reminded of every single mistake you made when you were a kid.”  
  
Harry let out a bitter laugh. “You have no idea what I had to do, Malfoy, no idea at all. I made plenty of mistakes on my own.” He opened his mouth to say more but the Ministry employees chose that time to call out to everyone to come to the doors. Harry followed Malfoy, feeling rather off-kilter as he walked. He should’ve known that Luna would feel unsettled in Malfoy’s presence and that Malfoy wasn’t likely to feel comfortable in Luna’s. He should’ve told Malfoy to stay put.  
  
Harry snorted, drawing an annoyed glance from Malfoy. Like the other man would’ve listened anyway.   
  
“Please raise your hand if you have yet to receive your list!” A man stood in the entranceway, holding a flag in one hand and a long list that trailed along the floor in the other. “No hands? So everyone has a list, excellent! You have until the end of today to find your items. When you have them all, the rope that ties you together will disappear and a member of the Ministry will appear to check your items and test your partnership. Have fun and good luck!”  
  
The flag went up, the Ministry employee stepped to the side, and Harry suddenly found himself pushed forward as the crowd moved around him, everyone rushing to get out of the room.   
  
The crowd soon stopped when the first couple crossed the doorway and found themselves bound together at the ankle.   
  
The reality of the situation hit Harry. He was actually going to be tied to Malfoy for the next few hours until they managed to get the last item, wasn’t he? The thought filled him with trepidation and he hesitated in crossing, turning to the side to see Malfoy giving him another of those annoyed looks.   
  
“What? Can’t stand the thought of being so close to me, Potter?” he spat, finally grabbing Harry’s arm and dragging him across the doorway.  
  
Harry felt his stomach fall when he saw the piece of innocuous rope twining itself around his ankle magically.   
  
No, I can't, but not for the reason you’re thinking. 

~

  
“Just remember that I’m in charge,” Malfoy said, somewhat pompously in Harry’s mind, as they made their way through the Ministry hallways.   
  
“And just when did we decide that?” Harry demanded, not liking the all-knowing smile Malfoy was wearing.   
  
“It’s just the way things are done, Potter. Unspeakables make the plans, and Aurors use their foolish courage to follow orders. Hence I will be giving you orders, and you shall be obeying them like the mindless henchman you are.”   
  
“Like hell,” Harry retorted. “The first sign of danger, and you’ll be running back to your little dark room where you do…whatever it is you do, leaving me to face it alone.”   
  
Malfoy smirked at him. “No, you’ll run headlong into whatever danger we come across without thinking, leaving me behind to pick up the pieces. I won’t be responsible for you if you get yourself maimed, Potter.”  
  
“I’m touched by your concern over my welfare, Malfoy,” Harry replied sarcastically.   
  
“You're touched in the head is what you are,” Malfoy replied, picking up his pace and making Harry do the same when the rope tugged at his ankle. They’d quickly discovered that if they did not keep pace with each other, then one (or both) of them would soon end up with their face meeting the ground. After the first few falls, they’d quickly decided that keeping up with each other was better than breaking their heads against the floor.   
  
Watching as Malfoy took out the list and perused it, Harry finally asked, “So which one are we going after first?”   
  
“I thought the Minister’s Quill would be the easiest, so we’ll aim for that one,” Malfoy replied. Harry found himself nodding before he could stop himself. It made sense, after all; start with the easiest and work their way up to the hardest. And getting a quill from Kingsley was certainly going to be easy.   
  
“Alright, Malfoy, lead the way.”   
  
With a swish of his robes, Malfoy gave him a small grin. “Why, Potter, I always lead. You just follow like the faithful little Auror you are.”  
  
Harry growled at him, hating that he liked Malfoy’s laugh even when the other man was laughing at him. He really was hopeless, wasn’t he?  
  
~ 

  
They stopped just outside Kingsley’s office, Malfoy placing a hand against Harry’s chest when he made to open the door.   
  
“Honestly, Potter, did you learn nothing from the war?” he asked snidely, taking his wand out and waving it in front of the door. He hummed a note under his breath, and Harry watched as bright blue strands suddenly appeared, spreading across Kingsley’s door like a cobweb made from an Acromantula. He cursed under his breath, taking out his own wand and touching it to one corner of the web, brow furrowing at the sparks that came off it.   
  
“Great, he’s Warded it,” Harry muttered, trying to think of what they’d learnt about Wards in Auror training. Not much: they’d learnt the basics, of course, but generally Aurors were called in when Wards failed and people got hurt. They dealt with the danger and left the Wards for other people to fix. Like the Unspeakables.  
  
Malfoy was smirking at him again, making a motion with his hand for Harry to stand back. “Let the professionals work,” he said, waving his wand again, this time in a complicated pattern that Harry soon lost track of. It started simply, with what seemed like the outline of an hourglass, but soon Malfoy was flicking his wand up and out with such quickness that it became a blur to Harry’s eyes.   
  
He did see when the wards flickered in front of him, the bright blue dimming, then flashing and disappearing before coming back. Malfoy was sweating now, Harry was pleased to note, watching as the perspiration stood out on his forehead. He was panting, too, and the sound shouldn’t have been making Harry hard. But it was.  
  
He gritted his teeth, clenching his hand harder around his wand and focusing, readying himself for when the Wards finally disappeared.  
  
When they finally did fall, Harry reached out with his hand for the doorknob, glaring at the sting in his hand when Malfoy slapped it away again. “We can’t just go in there without a Disillusionment Charm.” He held the list up to Harry’s face. “Did you not read the instructions? That’s just like Harry Potter not to read the rules.”  
  
“How could I when you’ve been hogging it all the time?” Harry muttered, taking the list from Malfoy and glancing over it. Words had appeared beside the list items, looking almost as if they had been burnt onto the parchment. Harry snorted, looking at the sentences that now existed after The Minister’s Quill.   
  
Participants are expected to exercise cooperation in this portion of the Game. They are to work together to think of a way to get into the Minister’s office undetected and replace the Quill with a replica so that the Minister will not suspect his own is missing. How this is accomplished is up to you – and remember to have fun!  
  
Harry was most definitely not having fun.   
  
Malfoy huffed behind him, holding out his wand. “Well, come here so we can get this over with,” he said impatiently.   
  
Harry rolled his eyes before turning away from Malfoy slightly, reaching into his Auror robe pockets. He took out his Invisibility Cloak, shaking it out before swinging it over his shoulders. He knew he’d disappeared when he heard Malfoy’s soft gasp. He had to hold in his snickers when the other man held his arms out in front of him, waving his hands about in an attempt to find him.  
  
Harry crept around him, tapping Malfoy on the shoulder before ducking out of the way when Malfoy spun round.   
  
“Stop fucking around, Potter. I don’t have time for games,” Malfoy finally bit out.  
  
Harry pulled the Cloak away from his head, revealing his grinning face to Malfoy, who looked like he’d bitten into something particularly sour. It wasn’t a good expression, and Harry was glad to see it, just wishing he could always think that Malfoy was this unsexy.   
  
The next moment a fist was crashing into his nose, and he stumbled back with a curse, putting a hand up to his face.   
  
“What the hell!” he cried, looking accusingly over at Malfoy, who gave him a blank look before pulling Harry’s hand away and tapping his wand against Harry’s nose.   
  
“Episkey,” Malfoy muttered. Harry felt the usual heat, and then the cold as his nose was healed.   
  
He touched it gingerly, still glaring at Malfoy, who shrugged at him in reply.   
  
“You had it coming,” was all he said before reaching out blindly and grabbing a hold on the Invisibility Cloak.   
  
“Back to business then, Potter,” he said briskly, giving the cloak a tug. “Although how we’re both supposed to get under this is beyond me.”   
  
“Can’t you stay here?” Harry asked, feeling immediately stupid when Malfoy just stepped back a little, pulling on Harry’s ankle with the rope.   
  
“Oh,” he said.   
  
“Yes, ‘oh’,” Malfoy replied snidely.  
  
Harry took a deep breath before holding an edge of the Cloak out to Malfoy, who settled it around his shoulders, pulling it over his head.   
  
Being this close to Malfoy was almost unbearable. The size of the Cloak made it impossible for them to separate, and he could feel Malfoy pressing up against his side, Malfoy’s arm going around his waist to hold them both together. It was unbearable and yet wonderful, being this close he could smell Malfoy’s cologne, feel Malfoy’s hair tickling his chin.  
  
He swallowed, forcing all thought from his head and trying to bring his inner Auror to the forefront. He had to stop thinking about how nice Malfoy felt against him, how warm he was, and how good he smelt.  
  
God, this was torture wasn’t it? It had to be. Kingsley was dead as soon as this was over.   
  
Gritting his teeth, Harry shuffled forward when Malfoy moved, pulling the door open. They stopped on the threshold, both of them still as they waited for any sign of movement. The office was empty, though, and they soon made it across the room.   
  
They stopped at Kingsley’s desk, a massive monstrosity of mahogany that took up the majority of the room. Paper covered every inch, in neat little piles that would probably only make sense to the Minister.  
  
Harry saw the quill before Malfoy and swiped it, putting it away in his cloak.   
  
He started when he felt a hand in his hair though. It almost felt like Malfoy was stroking him, a hand carefully brushing the strands, the sensation travelling right down Harry’s neck and spine, making him shiver.   
  
He yelped when Malfoy pulled, holding up three strands of black hair with a look of satisfaction.   
  
Harry would have brought his own hand up to rub his head, but the Cloak didn’t allow the movement. So he settled for glaring as Malfoy muttered a spell over the hairs, watching as they stiffened and straightened, changing colour and structure until he saw a duplicate of Kingsley’s quill in Malfoy’s hand.   
  
“Another Unspeakable spell?” he guessed, not liking Malfoy’s smug look as he placed the quill down in the exact same place Harry had picked up the original.   
  
“That’s for the Unspeakables to know and for you little Aurors to only dream about,” he said finally, casting a look around the room, pulling Harry along with him when he turned to leave. “Time to go,” he said unnecessarily.  
  
Harry followed him out the room, watching quietly as Malfoy set the Wards up again, humming under his breath. It took less time than it had to bring them down, and soon Malfoy was making his way down the corridor. They stopped when they’d travelled a ways, and Malfoy pulled the cloak off, handing it back to Harry.  
  
Harry felt the loss of Malfoy’s body keenly, biting his tongue to stop himself from asking Malfoy to come back. That arm around his waist had felt too nice for his own comfort. He had to stop thinking of Malfoy as a potential sex partner and think of him as just a partner.  
  
An impatient, exasperating partner who was now holding out the list to Harry once more, pointing one elegant, perfectly manicured finger at the next item.   
  
‘Microwave. This will call on your knowledge of the Muggle world. You and your partner must locate the object and take it without anyone’s knowledge. This will depend on both you and your partner’s ability to problem solve together. Good luck!’   
  
“Who is writing these lists?” Harry grumbled, passing the list back with a sigh. “And how the hell do we find a microwave in the Ministry?”   
  
Malfoy frowned at him for a moment, opening his mouth before closing it again with a grimace. Harry watched as Malfoy looked at his hands, seeming to find them fascinating for a moment. Was he stalling? And then it came to him.   
  
Harry smirked, folding his arms across his chest and waiting, loving the way Malfoy was now picking at his fingernails.   
  
Finally he decided to give the other man a break and spoke first. “You don’t know what a microwave is, do you?” he asked.   
  
Malfoy scowled at him, turning his head to the side. “It’s another of those stupid Muggle inventions, isn’t it?” he said. “Why would I want to know what it is? Just tell me what it looks like so we can get it and be done with it all.”   
  
“Well, it’s, ah, a box, with buttons on one side and a large door and—” Harry struggled, ridiculously pleased when Malfoy held up his hand to stop him.   
  
“Oh for Merlin’s sake, Potter, don’t burst a blood vessel. Let’s just go down to the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts, and you can point out the damn thing.”   
  
Harry scowled again but finally relented, following Malfoy as he started off down the hallways of the Ministry.  
  
Sometimes he couldn’t understand why he liked the prat so much. And then Malfoy gave him a quick co-conspirator grin as they ducked out of the way of another pair, and he sighed.  
  
Damn Malfoy and his sexy smiles.

~ 

  
“Oh, Harry Potter! It’s a pleasure to see you again!” Perkins said, the old man nodding his head along with his words as he shook Harry’s hand.   
  
Harry grinned back at him, watching out of the corner of his eye at the area he thought, hoped, Malfoy was lurking. They’d decided that Harry would distract Perkins whilst Malfoy tried to grab the microwave. Harry had pointed it out when they’d entered, but the microwave was perched on top of a mountain of other old Muggle items, and Perkins had been seated in front of the tower, looking up at the slightest sound. For an old man, he seemed to have amazing hearing.   
  
So now here Harry was, listening as Perkins told him a story of how he’d managed to rescue an unsuspecting Muggle from a Chattering Chair.   
  
“And then, when I’d finally pulled her free from the cushions, the chair suddenly started spitting out all the money. I had to cast a Shield Charm to protect us!”   
  
Harry laughed half-heartedly, hoping Perkins wouldn’t notice his wandering attention as he watched objects start to levitate from the pile, floating down to land beside a figure-sized space that must’ve been where Malfoy was standing.   
  
“Is everything alright, Mr Potter?” Perkins asked, blinking inquiring eyes at him.  
  
Harry gave a small laugh, rubbing the back of his head. “Oh, just a bit tired. All this hunting down Dark wizards and saving the Innocent can really wear you out sometimes.” He gave another laugh, hoping it didn’t sound as fake as he thought it did.   
  
Perkins didn’t seem to mind, giving him a small nod and patting his arm. “The things they make you poor Aurors do these days. Would you like some tea?” he asked brightly, moving towards the kettle that floated beside his desk.   
  
“Oh no, we don’t really have time.”  
  
“We who?” Perkins asked, sounding confused.   
  
“We, ah, me and my wand of course!” He brandished it before him, waving it in front of Perkins’ face.   
  
“Your…ah…wand…” Perkins looked decidedly worried, and Harry tried to give him a comforting smile, knowing it hadn’t worked at all when Perkins backed away.   
  
“I guess I’d better be going then,” he said when the microwave finally – finally! – disappeared from sight. “People to see, bad guys to fight! Catch you later, Mr Perkins!”  
  
Harry ducked out of the room, running down the corridor and leaning against the wall when he figured he was far enough away. He rubbed a hand across his forehead.   
  
Honestly, what kind of an idiot was he?   
  
“Are you an idiot, Potter?”  
  
“Oh, not you, too,” Harry sighed. “I have enough with my brain telling me without you as well.”   
  
Malfoy snorted, making Harry look at him curiously.   
  
“You’ve always been mental, Potter. That’s not going to stop just because you’re older. It’ll probably make it worse actually,” he mused, giving another of those small smiles that made Harry’s insides quiver.   
  
You do not like Malfoy, he told himself sternly.   
  
Oh really? Then why can’t you stop looking at him?  
  
I’m just wondering how anyone could be so pointy and not constantly poke themselves! That’s all!  
  
His arse isn’t all that pointy, though, is it?  
  
I can’t even see his arse because of his bloody robes, Harry told the other voice, sounding sullen even in his own head.  
  
Malfoy prodded him hard in the shoulder, causing Harry to rub at the injured area and snap out a ‘What?’ at him.   
  
Malfoy smirked and thrust the list into his hands. “Pay attention Potter. You might just learn something.”   
  
“There is nothing you could teach me, Malfoy, unless you’re giving out lessons in how to be an absolute prat.”   
  
Malfoy glared at him, crossing his arms across his chest. “Just read the damn list so we can get this over with.”   
  
Universe, I give up. For one day, can you just forgive me for whatever it is that made you hate me?  
  
Harry read the list and had to stop his hands from ripping the paper to shreds.   
  
Seriously. It’s not funny anymore.

~

  
’The Golden Interdepartmental Memo: You will find this flying around the Ministry, which means you, too, will have to fly whilst tied to your partner! This will help develop trust between you and your partner, and we are sure you will find this exercise very fulfilling. And remember – have fun!’   
  
“Accio Firebolt!” Harry called out, brandishing his wand over his head.   
  
There was nothing for a moment, just Malfoy looking on expectantly, and then he heard it, flying through the air towards him. It wasn’t his old Firebolt – the one Sirius had given him had been lost since the War – but Ron had forcibly frog-marched him into Quality Quidditch Supplies soon after they’d started Auror training.   
  
“I need something to help me relax amongst all these tests. And so do you,” Ron had said before pushing Harry forwards. “So find a broom and buy one. And don’t argue with me!”  
  
Harry had smiled, thankful for his friends, and grabbed up another Firebolt. He hadn’t even looked at the other makes; as soon as he’d seen that familiar handle, he’d grabbed it.   
  
And now here it was, stopped dead in mid-air before him, just patiently waiting for him to mount.  
  
Well, waiting for the both of them to mount. He couldn’t very well go anywhere without pulling Malfoy along by his foot.   
  
Gritting his teeth, Harry moved to fling his free leg over the side when Malfoy stopped him.   
  
“Oh no, Potter. There is no way in hell I’m ever riding behind you again. Once was enough.”  
  
Harry stopped, letting his leg fall to the floor and turning, ready to argue, when the look on Malfoy’s face silenced him.   
  
That tight look was back on his face – that same look he’d had when he’d encountered Luna earlier. The War had left scars on all of them – Harry’s more visible than most – but Malfoy seemed to carry his as emotional baggage that dragged him down even as he tried to stand tall.   
  
After the war, Harry had plucked up his courage and taken a journey to Malfoy Manor, standing by those imperious gates and waiting for a pale face to come up to him.   
  
Malfoy had appeared world-weary and struggling to hold up, but he’d looked at Harry with such solemnity that Harry had been speechless.   
  
Malfoy had bowed then, low at the waist. He’d opened his mouth and Harry had been sure – so sure – that Malfoy had been about to apologise to him. Apologise for being a bastard at school, apologise for all the bad things he’d done, for trying to kill Dumbledore, for joining Voldemort. For everything. But he hadn’t.   
  
“Thank you, Potter, for saving us.”   
  
Harry had thrust Malfoy’s wand into his hand and run, well Apparated, as far away from the other boy as possible. He’d thrown himself into Auror work and tried to forget the meeting had ever happened.   
  
He had tried to forget the look on Malfoy’s face, tried to forget his voice, tried to forget Malfoy – but it had been hard.  
  
Then they’d been partnered on that damn mission, and Malfoy had been witty and amusing and friendly. Well, as friendly as Malfoy could be.   
  
And Harry maybe, sort of, fell for him then.   
  
So when he climbed onto his Firebolt behind Malfoy, circling his arms around Malfoy’s waist and resting his chest against Malfoy’s back, he could feel his heart thudding. So hard and so loud he thought he might be sick, but then Malfoy was flying.   
  
It felt amazing. There was no fire chasing them, no animosity, just the air and speed and Malfoy turning his head to grin back at him, their hair whipping about their faces, tangling together.   
  
Harry grinned and then laughed when Malfoy swooped down, low enough to the floor that Harry felt his toes skim the ground. Then it was up and around and barrelling around the other Ministry employees who cried after them.   
  
The hallways were large, though, and Malfoy expertly wound around them, diving and turning. And then Harry saw it.   
  
“There it is!” he cried, reaching out his hand.   
  
His Seeker skills had never left him, and he caught the memo with ease, grinning triumphantly as he held it up for Malfoy to see.   
  
Malfoy was turned to face him and he seemed struck. Harry watched as Malfoy seemed to hesitate, his mouth opening, and then the broom smacked into the wall and they were falling and everything hurt.   
  
~

  
Harry awoke to a brown blur. And voices – loud, demanding voices.   
  
“What the hell kind of flying do you call that, Malfoy?” That was Ron. A very angry Ron.   
  
“Shut up, Weasley, this has nothing to do with you!”   
  
“Like hell it doesn’t! That’s my bloody friend on the floor!”   
  
“Oh get lost, Weasel. No one asked for you to come running to Potter’s rescue. I had everything perfectly under control.”   
  
“Oh yeah, like—”  
  
“Ron! We talked about this, remember? You and Malfoy need to be quiet and focus on what’s important here – helping Harry!”   
  
“Yeah, but he—”  
  
“Hey guys?” Harry finally managed to say, cursing his weakness as he tried to lift his head. It felt so heavy, like an entire band had taken up residence within, a loud band with a lot of drums. He winced, watching as Hermione seemed to materialise in front of him, concerned brown eyes looking into his own. A cool hand touched his forehead, fingers lightly stroking through his hair.   
  
“Oh Harry! You’re finally awake! How do you feel?”   
  
“I’m…alright I guess?” He thought about it for a moment. Although he felt a bit sore in places, and there was that band in his head, he felt fine. So he nodded. “I’m fine. What happened?”  
  
Ron snorted above him, jabbing a thumb in Malfoy’s direction. “Malfoy here decided to fly you both straight into a wall.”   
  
“I did no such thing!” Malfoy retorted. Harry turned his head, trying to see over Hermione’s shoulder.  
  
Malfoy stood just a little apart from them. Well, as far away as he could get with the rope that tied them together. His eyes were narrowed and he looked defensive and on edge. There was a bruise already forming around one eye and his wand hand seemed to twitch, his hair a wild mess on his head. He looked, to be frank, like shit.   
  
Harry leaned back with a sigh. His foot was pulled, and he looked back to see Malfoy trying to move away, unable to do so because of the rope.   
  
He felt thankful for a moment that the Ministry had tied them together. He knew Malfoy wanted to run. But when Malfoy found himself locked in position he seemed to freeze for a moment before his chin went up and he looked at Ron challengingly.   
  
“I can look after Potter just fine. Thank you very much for your oh-so-useful input, Weasley,” he sneered. “Can you and Granger get lost now so I can get back to winning this ridiculous game?”  
  
Ron looked incensed, his mouth opening to say something else when Hermione reached out, placing a restraining hand on his arm. Ron immediately looked away, although his face was still red and he huffed out a breath before finally nodding.   
  
“Fine. Let’s go, Hermione.” He raised his wand threateningly. “If anything happens to Harry, you’ll be the one I come to first, Malfoy.”   
  
“Oh, I’m so scared,” Malfoy replied, rolling his eyes.   
  
Harry watched them, feeling laughter bubbling up within him. They looked like a pair of posturing Tom cats. The only thing was that, for some reason, they were fighting overhim. Which mean that Malfoy was fighting for him.   
  
The knowledge made him feel lightheaded and he closed his eyes, opening them again when he felt hair across his face. Hermione was smiling down at him and Harry watched in confusion as she muttered a privacy charm around the two of them.   
  
“He was worried about you, Harry, terribly worried,” she said, giving his cheek a small caress. Harry leaned into it, seeping up Hermione’s loving warmth. “I think…I think he might actually care for you, too.” Her brow furrowed, and she leaned down, pressing their foreheads together. “Be careful, Harry. I know you and your heart, and I don’t want to see you hurt. You deserve happiness, you deserve love. So much love.” She gave him another small smile before sitting back, dropping the privacy charm and reaching up to grab Ron’s hand.   
  
It was only then that Harry realised they were no longer attached to their partners.   
  
“Hey Ron, what happened to Luna?”   
  
Ron looked a bit embarrassed for a moment and muttered something under his breath, something about ’looking for Heliopaths’.   
  
Giving up on him, Harry turned to Hermione instead, raising an eyebrow at her.  
  
Hermione gave him an exasperated sigh. “Kevin decided he was bored and left.” She gave a small shrug and a quick smile. “He was…not a good sport.”  
  
Ron grumbled some more and Harry could hear Hermione’s laughter echoing in the corridors as she led him away.   
  
“Your friends are mental, Potter,” Malfoy finally said in the silence.   
  
“Yeah, they are a bit, aren’t they?” Harry agreed, laughing at Malfoy’s stunned look.   
  
He loved his friends, but even he could see that they’d have to be a bit mental just to be friends with him.   
  
Malfoy bent down next to him, resting on his knees and sweeping his wand over Harry’s body. He felt himself tense for a moment before relaxing under Malfoy’s frown.  
  
“If I’d wanted to kill you, I would have done it when you were still unconscious and drooling,” Malfoy said, tapping his wand against Harry’s forehead.   
  
A wonderful cool feeling spread out within him, washing away the drummers before easing the aches within Harry’s muscles. He gave Malfoy a small, slightly hesitant smile when it was over.   
  
“Uh, thanks for that,” he said.  
  
“Eloquent as ever, Potter,” Malfoy replied, standing once more and wiping at his robes to get rid of the non-existent dust that clung to it.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes, getting to his feet gingerly, giving another grin when he realised he felt perfectly fine.  
  
The smile soon fell when he saw his broom. It was broken right down the middle and the two halves were stacked against the wall. He walked over to them, feeling his breath catch when he saw the jagged edges. He clenched his hands into fists before turning away.   
  
“The people at the shop could fix it for you,” Malfoy offered behind him.  
  
Harry shook his head. “I really should stop trying to fly. It’s not good for my health,” he finally said. “I should just give it up altogether.” He toed the pieces with the edge of his boot before finally turning around to face Malfoy, who stood watching him with an unfathomable expression. The silence spread between them until Malfoy finally shrugged.   
  
“I suppose we should get on with it then, shouldn’t we? The last item is—”  
  
Harry interrupted him, raising his empty hand. “But I don’t have the memo anymore."   
  
Malfoy smirked at him, reaching into his robes and bringing out a crumpled piece of gold parchment. “I caught it whilst you were busy fainting.”  
  
“I did not faint!” Harry replied indignantly.   
  
“You definitely fainted, Potter – like a fair maiden falling for the handsome prince.”  
  
“And what does that make you? The handsome prince?”  
  
For some reason, Malfoy blushed at that but didn’t reply, shoving the list into Harry’s hands instead and looking away at the wall next to him.  
  
Harry snickered, a sound which turned into choking when he saw the now-revealed last item on the list.   
  
’Your last item is Unrequited Love. This can be anything from a potion, to the actual feeling itself. Feel free to think creatively! In fact, we encourage you to think outside the box; you will be judged on your interdependence within this exercise. Again, we wish you the best of luck and hope you enjoy the last of the Wagmump Games!’  
  
Harry gaped at the list for so long his mouth went dry but he couldn’t look away.  
  
He only realised his hand was shaking when he felt the cool touch of Malfoy’s fingers tapping him gently. He looked up into Malfoy’s concerned gaze – and wasn’t that a weird thought? – and had to swallow quickly to get rid of all the saliva that had suddenly appeared in his mouth.  
  
Malfoy was looking at him like he actually cared about Harry’s feelings. It was too much, and Harry backed away quickly, shoving the list back at him and giving a high, strangled-sounding laugh.   
  
“The Ministry really have lost it, haven’t they?” he said, blithely ignoring the way Malfoy was looking at him as though he’d gone insane.   
  
“Did they ever really have it?” Malfoy replied before stepping closer again, grabbing Harry’s chin and looking into his eyes. “Are you alright, Potter?”   
  
No, I’m not! Stop touching me!  
  
But you like him touching you, don’t you?  
  
No, I don’t! Even though his hands feel incredible – it’s not going to work.  
  
And why not?   
  
Because he’s Malfoy, and I’m Harry Potter.  
  
Forcing a grin onto his face Harry turned, skirting around Malfoy and starting off down the corridor, forcing Malfoy to follow him or trip when the rope stretched too far.   
  
“Potter! What the hell’s the matter with you?”  
  
You! You’re what’s the matter with me! You and your bloody poncy hair, and your stupidly well-fitted robes, and your stupidly pretty eyes. And when was grey ever a nice colour? Never!  
  
He might as well just give up; the world was clearly never going to forgive him whatever shit he’d done in the past. He should just accept that his life was going to be full of crap.   
  
He snorted. Easier said than done. 

~ 

Harry had managed to walk – or run, really – all the way to the lifts before Malfoy finally grabbed his shoulders.   
  
His back hit the side of the lift hard when Malfoy shoved him into the wall, bringing their faces together. He was so close that Harry could feel Malfoy’s breath against his lips and he couldn’t help but lick his own. God, he could kiss him right now, and no one was around and…  
  
And Malfoy would probably run away screaming - except he couldn’t, could he? Because they were attached at the ankle. So he’d probably just hex Harry into oblivion with some obscure Unspeakable spell.   
  
Harry laughed weakly. “Is this the part where you give me a black eye to match your own?”  
  
Malfoy looked uncomfortable, looking down for a moment before shaking himself and looking back up. “Is that what this is about? You’re angry at me for crashing that damned broom?”   
  
“What? No! I’m not angry,” Harry denied. “What gave you that idea?”  
  
Malfoy gave him a long look. “Potter, you just ran through half the Ministry, you won’t talk to me about what’s going through that thing you call a brain, and I have no idea what’s wrong! If it wasn’t the broom crash, then what? What is it? What did I do this time?”  
  
Malfoy’s voice had risen and his eyes were widening, massive pools of grey beseeching Harry. He looked so desperate that Harry raised his hand, cupping Malfoy’s cheek.   
  
“You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?” he asked, a feeling of wonder filling him inside.   
  
Malfoy bit his lip for a moment, shaking his head slightly. “I just… it’s not… it’s your fault, Potter,” he finally said, the tight grip he’d kept on Harry’s shoulder lessening slightly. “You were always the one who noticed, and then you weren’t there, and then you showed up again with that damn wand, and then you disappeared again! Then we were partnered on that mission and things seemed to change and I thought…but it’s just the same as always, isn’t it? You don’t care at all.” Malfoy sighed, and his hands dropped completely from Harry’s shoulders. He stepped back; looking like someone had kicked his favourite Kneazle.   
  
There was an ache in Harry’s chest as he looked at Malfoy’s face, his lost expression. He didn’t know what he’d done, or what Malfoy was talking about, but he didn’t like it.   
  
“Let’s just get this over with, shall we?” Malfoy said, turning and grabbing onto one of the gold ropes hanging from the ceiling. Harry quickly grabbed one himself, and soon they were plummeting down.   
  
When they came to a stop, Harry was surprised to hear they were on Level 9.  
  
“Why are we at the Department of Mysteries?” he asked as he followed Malfoy out of the lift.   
  
Malfoy gave him a narrow-eyed look. “We’re heading for my office, Potter. I have something that may classify as ‘Unrequited Love’. Unless you have a suggestion?”  
  
Harry could feel himself blushing, and he shook his head roughly in response. “You just lead the way, Malfoy, and I’ll follow like the good little Auror I am.”  
  
Malfoy smirked back at him. “Good to hear you’re finally accepting your place in life,” he said as he led Harry past doors and down corridor after corridor, walking through Chamber after Chamber before finally stopping in the Time Room, just outside of an ornate-looking black door that seemed to flicker with a golden light.   
  
Malfoy waved his wand in front of it, muttering under his breath, and the light disappeared. Pointing his wand to the lock, he uttered another word and pushed it open, Harry following on his heels as he entered.   
  
Harry had to admit to being slightly disappointed at Malfoy’s office. There was a plain black table in the middle, and behind that a leather black chair with filing cabinets taking up the entire back wall. Parchment and memos took up most of the space on the desk, along with a few clock parts that were scattered around. In fact, the only thing interesting about the room that Harry could see was the old Grandfather clock that sat in the corner, looking rather out-of-place amongst the other boring office supplies. An intricate M had been inscribed onto the clock face and the pendulums were encrusted with what Harry could only assume were diamonds and emeralds. It was, to be frank, the most ostentatious thing Harry had ever seen.   
  
Malfoy saw him staring and gave him a small smile. “A Malfoy family heirloom – one of the only ones we were left with after the Ministry took everything else.” His mouth twisted down in disgust. “Apparently they couldn’t see how a clock could have any Dark magic attached to it. Idiots,” he snorted, shuffling through the papers on his desk.   
  
Harry looked at the clock again, this time with bit more caution. “So…this is actually a Dark Heirloom? Should you really have it here in the Ministry with Aurors everywhere?” he asked hesitantly, turning around when he heard no response.   
  
Malfoy seemed caught up in his search, pushing paperwork aside and moving about the clock pieces.   
  
Harry frowned, not liking the idea that Malfoy was actually ignoring him. He lifted a hand, ready to shake Malfoy’s shoulder when the other man suddenly shot up, clutching something in his fist.  
  
“Found it!” he cried triumphantly, opening his hand and showing Harry the rather crumpled-looking daffodil that sat there.   
  
“I…don’t get it,” Harry finally admitted when Malfoy kept looking at him expectantly.   
  
Malfoy sighed. “This is a daffodil, Potter. A yellow flower that blooms in the Spring,” he explained slowly.  
  
Harry scowled at him. “I know that, but how does it help us win the game?”   
  
“The daffodil is a key ingredient in the making of the Laverne Potion.” Harry must have still looked confused because Malfoy rolled his eyes and added, “It’s a love potion that induces unrequited love. Honestly, Potter, do you never read?”  
  
Harry grinned, knowing that Malfoy would hate to find out just how much he sounded like Hermione in that moment. Or vice-versa, he could just imagine Hermione’s face when he told her.   
  
“So now we have the last item, and that means the rope should come off, right?” Harry said, reaching down to his ankle and pulling on the knots in the rope. He gave it a few unsuccessful tugs before looking up at Malfoy’s resigned face.   
  
“It should just come off, shouldn’t it?” he asked again, already knowing the answer when Malfoy threw the daffodil down on his desk.   
  
“Clearly that isn’t enough,” Malfoy said, turning to his desk again. “Maybe they need the actual love potion? But where the hell am I supposed to get a Laverne Potion in the Ministry? They don’t even allow other Unspeakables into the Love Chamber.”   
  
Harry stood watching as Malfoy tried to pace, only being able to take a few steps away before turning around and marching back to Harry’s side. It was like seeing a tiger that had been caged for days without food; a very irritable, blond tiger who looked as if he were about to start spouting off spells at any minute.   
  
The thought made Harry reach for his own wand, only to come up empty. He looked down at his hand in dismay. “Malfoy, I can’t find my wand.”   
  
Malfoy turned on him, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him so hard that Harry’s teeth rattled. “What do you mean, you can’t find your wand? What kind of Wizard loses his wand? For Merlin’s sake, Potter!”  
  
Harry just looked at him for a moment, waiting until Malfoy realised the utter ridiculousness of such a sentence coming from him. It only took a few moments, and then Malfoy was blushing slightly, looking down with a frown.   
  
“That was an entirely different case. I thought you were supposed to be this amazing, Golden Boy Auror now? How could you misplace your wand?”  
  
Harry frowned back at him. “I suppose it happened when you decided to forget how to land a broom properly.”   
  
“Are you still harping on about that?” Malfoy replied, looking at him sharply.   
  
Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “No, look, I don’t care about you breaking my broom—”  
  
“I’ll buy you a new one,” Malfoy interrupted him.  
  
“I said I don’t care,” Harry reiterated, “I just want to find my wand and go home.”  
  
“But we haven’t finished the Game yet!”   
  
“I thought you didn’t care about the game? You said that we’d be lucky to get a Sickle, knowing the Ministry.”   
  
Malfoy shuffled his feet, looking anywhere but at Harry’s face. Harry would have found it comical except that Malfoy was also fingering the wand at his side and, without his own, Harry was absolutely defenceless if Malfoy suddenly decided to curse him.   
  
“I don’t care about the Ministry’s attempt to make us all work together, but I’d like to win.” He sniffed, “Malfoys never lose, after all.”   
  
Harry snorted at that. “What version of history are you looking at? Malfoys always lose, it must be in your blood somewhere.”  
  
“How dare you!”  
  
Malfoy looked outraged now, and Harry was glad; an angry Malfoy was a decidedly ugly-looking Malfoy. His face went mottled red, his lips tightened to thin lines, and somehow he looked more pointy than usual. It was like looking his childhood bully in the face again.  
  
And I need to remember that.  
  
Not that I need to – I don’t like Malfoy, after all.   
  
You just keep telling yourself that, Harry.

~

 

They were both silent as they made their way back to where Malfoy had crashed Harry’s broom earlier. Harry kept casting surreptitious glances in Malfoy’s direction, taking in his seething expression, and then quickly looking away again.  
  
This is the way it has to be, he told himself decisively as he felt a chasm growing between them, even with the rope that tied them together. It made no difference to Malfoy, who kept up a brisk walk the entire way, only stopping when they finally made it to their destination, crossing his arms and giving Harry another scowl before looking away.  
  
“Find your wand, Potter, and then we can leave,” Malfoy told him, sounding as if he were talking through clenched teeth. “I know you can’t wait to get rid of me, and I don’t wish to spend any more time in your sorry presence, either, so be quick about it.”  
  
The words were like pinpricks sticking into his heart, but Harry swallowed whatever emotion might have bubbled up inside him, forcing his eyes to the ground and focusing only on the task in front of him. He found his wand after only a few minutes of looking, pocketing it with some relief and turning back to Malfoy.   
  
“So…what should we do now?”  
  
“Well, we can’t very well go home tied together, can we?” Malfoy replied with a sneer. “I dread to think what kind of hovel you live in, Potter.”   
  
Harry crossed his arms over his chest, quickly growing tired of Malfoy’s barbs.  
  
“Well, what do you suggest we do?” Harry asked, walking up to Malfoy until their toes were aligned and he was breathing right in Malfoy’s face.  
  
Malfoy wrinkled his nose delicately. “I would think that clear to anyone with half a brain, Potter. We need to find that potion, and then I can go back to my Potter-free life and you can do…whatever it is foolhardy Aurors do.”   
  
Harry gritted his teeth. “How about I put you out of your misery now?” And he grabbed the back of Malfoy’s head, pulling it towards him and lifting his head up so their lips met.   
  
The kiss could barely be called that. Harry pushed his lips against Malfoy’s, but the other man didn’t respond, seeming frozen. Harry bit at his lip, which Malfoy finally responded to – but not in the way Harry wanted.  
  
The fist that met his chin hurt, but not as much as Malfoy’s furious expression when Harry finally raised his head to meet those blazing grey eyes.   
  
He opened his mouth – ready to explain, apologise, anything – when there a puff of orange gas next to him and a Ministry official stood next to them, smiling in the oblivious way of all idiots everywhere.   
  
“Congratulations, Malfoy and Potter! You have successfully completed your items list and the Wagmump Games! I am here to take your items and test your partnership!”   
  
Malfoy looked like he was going to be sick, and Harry definitely felt sick as the Ministry official kept on smiling, holding out his hand patiently. Malfoy reached into his cloak, dropping the shrunken microwave, the Minister’s Quill, and the golden memo into the palm of the official’s hand.   
  
The Ministry employee’s smile dimmed slightly when he stood back. “And where’s your last item?”   
  
Harry opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but stand there dumbly as Malfoy glared at him from across the corridor.  
  
The Ministry official cleared his throat and reached into his orange robes to bring out his own list. “Ah, it says here you found a daffodil – very interesting! If you would just hand it over to me, I can give you the all-clear.”   
  
“We lost it,” Malfoy told him flatly.   
  
“You…lost it?” The official sounded confused now, tilting his head to the side. “How could you lose it?”  
  
“We just did!” Malfoy snapped. “Now get this bloody rope off me so I can go home!”  
  
The official jumped a bit, quickly waving his wand and uttering the words that would free them.   
  
Harry felt anything but free when the rope finally vanished from around his ankle. He felt trapped, unable to escape the accusing hatred in Malfoy’s eyes as the other man stormed off, robes sweeping out behind him.  
  
“What’s his problem?” the official muttered to himself, giving Harry a quick salute before disappearing again.   
  
Harry stayed where he was, hands clenched and head bent.   
  
Well, you managed to royally fuck that up, well done!  
  
Oh get lost.

  
~

  
“Oh Harry,” Hermione said when he stumbled through her Floo later that night. He was immediately encased in her arms, Ron coming up next to him on his other side to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.   
  
“You alright, mate?”  
  
Harry gave them both a weak smile before shrugging out of their hold and moving over to collapse on their sofa.   
  
He sank into the cushions, burying his head in his hands and just wishing he could disappear into the cushions altogether. It would solve a lot of his problems.   
  
“I give up,” he said through his hands.  
  
Hermione sighed as she sat down next to him, rubbing his arm through his robes before reaching down to grab one of his hands, pulling it away from his face.   
  
“You are not someone who gives up, Harry Potter,” she told him earnestly.   
  
“She’s right, you know,” Ron said next to him as he sat on Harry’s other side, nudging his shoulder. “She’s Hermione, after all.”  
  
Harry had to smile at that, even if it was a small one.  
  
“You’ll get over this, Harry,” Hermione said decisively, holding his hand with both of her own. “You’ll get over this just like you’ve gotten over things before; you’ll forget all about that bastard Malfoy and you’ll meet someone new. Someone better.”  
  
Ron snorted next to him. “Won’t be hard.”  
  
Harry laughed at that, shaking his head slightly as he leaned back, resting against Hermione and taking in her warmth and love. All he needed was time… time and he’d get over this whole mess, time and he’d sort himself out, time and he’d fall out of love with Malfoy…

  
~

  
Harry didn’t realise he’d fallen asleep until he heard the Floo chime.   
  
He sat up, rubbing at his bleary eyes before noticing that he wasn’t wearing his glasses. There was a quilt across his legs, and he smiled when he saw it, tracing the Gryffindor lions that pranced over it. He really did have wonderful friends.   
  
Reaching across to the small side table beside the sofa, Harry finally found his glasses and jammed them back on his face, blinking as the room came into sudden focus.   
  
The Floo chimed again and Harry shuffled forwards, wondering where Hermione and Ron had gone; probably to sleep, he realised, when he saw the time. It was well past one in the morning, and they’d probably gone to bed soon after he’d arrived.   
  
Crawling towards the Floo, Harry reached into his pocket, retrieving his wand and waving it towards the fire.   
  
He wasn’t sure who was more surprised when Malfoy’s face appeared in the fireplace.   
  
“Potter! What are you doing there?” Malfoy demanded as soon as he’d gotten over his own shock.   
  
Harry rolled his eyes. “I have this thing called friends, and sometimes I happen to sleep over at their house and—”  
  
“Whatever,” Malfoy interrupted him. “Can I come through?”  
  
“Why should I let you through?” Harry replied, frowning at Malfoy’s face, not liking the petulant feeling growing inside him. When had he become such a kid?   
  
Malfoy sighed, which made the fire crackle alarmingly, causing Harry to skirt back a bit. “We have…things to talk about,” he said, looking meaningfully down at Harry’s lips.   
  
Harry couldn’t help himself when he brought his fingers up to touch them, unnerved when Malfoy’s eyes didn’t leave and instead seemed to be devouring him through the flames.   
  
He stood up, backing away from the fire and gesturing for Malfoy to come through.   
  
He did, stepping through with a grace that sparked instant jealousy through Harry. He’d never been able to do anything but stumble out of the Floo, no matter how old he got. He stood patiently, waiting for Malfoy to speak first.  
  
The other man turned to pace instead, holding both his clenched fists down by his side and crossing the room in swift strides. He stopped eventually beside the sofa, shoving a hand through his hair and upsetting the blond strands there, making some stand up when he brought his hand down to his side once more.  
  
“I…you kissed me earlier,” he finally said.   
  
“Yes,” Harry replied, somewhat warily. “If you want to hex, or curse me, or whatever, you should know that I’m a trained Auror and will fight back.” He laid a hand against his own wand in warning.  
  
Malfoy was shaking his head back and forth. “No, no, I don’t want to…Merlin this is going wrong already.” He took a deep breath, and Harry watched as he reached into his robes.   
  
Harry raised his wand threateningly, waiting for Malfoy to bring out his own, only to be nonplussed when Malfoy held out the daffodil in front of him.   
  
It looked a bit worse for wear, a few petals missing and its stem broken so it flopped in Malfoy’s fist but Malfoy held it out proudly, as though it were a beautiful rose.   
  
“It’s the daffodil,” Harry finally said, tired of waiting for Malfoy to get to the point.  
  
“Don’t you see?” Malfoy replied, holding the daffodil out towards Harry. “This is it, this is the answer.”  
  
“What the hell are you talking about, Malfoy?”   
  
“I like you, Potter!” Malfoy blurted out, looking as if he immediately regretted it before shaking his head once more and taking one hesitant step towards Harry.  
  
Harry felt like backing away. This Malfoy – this desperate, shaking Malfoy – was looking at him with such wide, open eyes, that he felt trapped. His back hit the wall and still Malfoy came forward until their chests touched, the daffodil trapped between them.   
  
“I like you,” Malfoy said again before reaching up and threading his fingers through Harry’s hair, tilting his head back and pressing their lips together.   
  
It was so different from earlier that for a moment Harry could do nothing but stand there. Malfoy was yielding to him, his lips soft and pliant as they moved against his own. There were fists clenching in his hair, angling his head, and Malfoy’s chest leaned into him.   
  
He moved just as Malfoy’s lips stopped, those grey eyes that had been so open and light seeming to dim and shutter. They soon blazed again when Harry’s hands came up to grab his shoulders, twisting them around so he had Malfoy pressed against the wall.   
  
He held him there as he plundered Malfoy’s mouth, thrusting his tongue in and feeling the slick wetness and heat that Malfoy kept there. He rubbed his growing erection against Malfoy’s thigh, thrilling in the answering one he could feel from Malfoy.   
  
He stepped away just as Malfoy gave a breathy moan, panting into Malfoy’s mouth as he tried to regain his breath.   
  
“So what does the daffodil mean?”  
  
Malfoy gave him an incredulous look. “You’re asking me this now?” he asked with an impatient tug on Harry’s hair.   
  
“I need to know,” Harry replied, pulling back and looking at Malfoy solemnly. “I, well, you can probably guess how I feel about you. You said you liked me… is that all?”  
  
Malfoy’s head turned away from him but Harry reached out with his hand, cupping Malfoy’s jaw and forcing the other man to look him in the eye.   
  
“Answer me, Malfoy .What does the daffodil mean?”  
  
“It means many things,” Malfoy finally muttered, the daffodil in question still held tightly in his hand. “Regard, or esteem, or uncertainty.”  
  
Harry shook his head slightly. “I don’t care about that. I only care about what you wanted it to mean.”  
  
“Unrequited love,” Malfoy finally said softly, a blush rising in his cheeks.   
  
Harry grinned at him in delight, reaching down to pluck the daffodil from Malfoy’s fingers. He tossed it over his shoulder, not caring where it fell as he brought his lips back to Malfoy’s.  
  
“Not unrequited, not anymore,” he whispered against Malfoy’s lips before kissing him again.  
  
He smiled into the kiss when Malfoy kissed him back, the voice in the back of his head laughing at him.  
  
See, what did I tell you?   
  
Alright, I’ll admit it, you were right.  
  
And aren’t you glad I was?  
  
Yes, already, now go away. I’m busy.  
  
And he was because Malfoy’s tongue was doing delicious things in his mouth, and his heart was singing, and he couldn’t stop smiling. He was in love. And it wasn’t unrequited.  
  
Maybe, just maybe, the world had started to forgive him a little.  
  
Then again, he thought when he heard the sound of outraged shrieking behind him and turned to face a red-faced Ron and a snickering Hermione, maybe not…

 

The End.

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